


Emotions Running High

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-03 01:24:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1726058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A job that didn't go according to plan wound up being just the catalyst needed to change their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Emotions Running High

The job was meant to be a simple one, an in-and-out extraction from a businesswoman who had no idea dream share even existed. She wouldn't be militarized, wouldn't notice if a dreamed seemed to have more clarity than usual, and wouldn't think it overly odd to be dreaming about her bank accounts and access codes, not if she thought she was accessing them to plan a trip to Tahiti.

It was supposed to be easy. Which is of course why it all went to hell.

She absolutely was militarized and suspicious, and her mind was more like a steel trap. Arthur barely got her to think of the accounts in question, and then it was a race to the safe ahead of angry projections hellbent on killing him as messily and painfully as possible. Instead of a leisurely stroll, Arthur had to hide in between bursts of running and shooting, feeling more like he was trapped in a game of Rainbow Six.

He hated jobs like this.

Worse yet, Ariadne hadn't made enough boltholes or traps along the route to the safe. He was out in the open a lot, a target, and Arthur _hated_ that feeling.

When he did get to the safe, he got the required information and memorized it quickly. As soon as the extraction was over, he intended to get to his employer, recite it all and get paid. Any more surprises like this and he'd snap.

Which is of course why he found Ariadne at the rented office space afterward, exactly where she wasn't supposed to be.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he snarled at her.

That should have been enough of a clue he was angry and out of sorts. He was _always_ polite, impeccably dressed and behaved like the consummate professional. He had a reputation to keep, even with coworkers, and he maintained that image at all times. Many thought it made him an automaton, but it was comforting in a way. It reminded him of his military days, gave order to the chaos that was dream share and let others know he was trustworthy and dependable. In a business like this, that was really the only way to get by.

Ariadne, on the other hand, was a woman that took to dream share surprisingly well. She had her artistic flair and impeccable vision, adapting to new ideas quickly. She didn't value her beauty as much as her mind, but that didn't mean she was unaware of it. That simply meant she wasn't pretentious or the kind to preen or take on diva qualities that Arthur detested. It meant that if she wasn't someone he worked with regularly, he would pursue her. After seeing Dom and Mal's relationship deteriorate so spectacularly, Arthur had no intention of repeating the same mistake.

She merely blinked at Arthur's snarl, but otherwise appeared unperturbed. "It went well, didn't it?"

"Not according to plan," he replied shortly.

Now she frowned at him. "What? What happened?"

"She was militarized and you didn't make enough hiding places along the way. No shortcuts. That nearly cost us everything!"

"What? Wait, Arthur—"

"It shouldn't have happened this way. The design should've been crisper, should've fooled her better." Arthur didn't try to curb his frustration, giving his voice a harsher tone than he intended.

"No way," Ariadne began, irritation in her voice. "This is _not_ my fault. I wasn't even there!"

And thank God for that, so the businesswoman wouldn't have seen her face, wouldn't think to go after her. But Arthur squelched that thought ruthlessly. No attachments. No emotion. He had a reputation to keep safe. Detachment. Professionalism.

"It would've been worse if you had been!"

Ariadne's eyes narrowed, and Arthur knew how that had to sound. Still, it was a truth.

"I am _not_ some idiot you can shut down," she hissed. Oh, no, she was angry now. Still, better angry than afraid. Better angry than dead or broken by the business they were in.

"I'm not even shouting," he told her icily. This was true, he wasn't yelling yet. Control. Detachment. Professionalism. "But this entire situation could have been avoided with better planning more to the maze—"

"Planning is _your_ job," she snapped, cheeks flushed beautifully with her anger. Worse yet, she was right.

He hated that; it made him feel helpless and useless. If she had been there, if she had been threatened at all…

"Your job was to make a maze to lose her projections. A flawless environment to—"

"It was!" she shouted at him, hands balling into fists at her sides. "Can we not fight tonight?"

"This entire day was a fucking mess!" Arthur snapped, frustration only too evident in his tone. Dammit. He was losing control. He wasn't restrained, wasn't detached, wasn't being professional.

"That's not _my_ fault!"

No, that was his. And the knowledge _burned._

"I wasn't even there!" Ariadne cried.

Thank God for small favors.

"And I _won't_ have you storming in here, shouting at me like a _child_ and being an asshole!" she continued, angry.

Good for her. He wanted her strong and fearless, in control and full of talent. He couldn't love someone who wasn't whole.

_Love._

His precious control shattered as he realized it. He wasn't in control. He wasn't detached. He wasn't behaving like a professional at all.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, then grabbed her and kissed her with all the passion he'd never wanted to show her. She froze for a moment, then pushed at his chest.

Arthur backed off, breathing heavily. "Ariadne…"

"Were you _trying_ to pick a stupid fight with me to do that?" she asked incredulously.

"No! But I barely got it together to finish the job, and if you'd been there and gotten hurt… I don't know what I'd do. You don't know the risks, and if anything happened…"

Understanding seemed to bloom on her face. "Oh, you _stupid_ idiot," she said with a shake of her head.

Before he could retort or ask what she meant by that, she grabbed him by the shirt front and pulled him in for a kiss. It wasn't his desperate one just now or the tease he had given her on the Fischer job a year ago. Oh, no. This was filthy and hungry, telling Arthur she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

This was every dream come true, every fantasy he had tried to stop himself from having. He'd test his totem immediately if he didn't know he couldn't dream her up in this much detail, this much ferocity. He never would have dreamed up this kind of response, and he knew with absolute certainty that this was reality. 

Off came her cardigan, and Arthur could feel the curve of her ribs and the straps of her bra through her shirt. Ariadne was pulling at his shirt, untucking it from his trousers roughly, her fingers skimming against his skin. With the speed of a dream, Arthur was peeling away layers of clothing and had Ariadne down to bare skin. She was so tiny that he was able to lift her up and carry her to the desk in the office. Its surface was bare, so there was no need for the destructive but impressive-looking dramatic swipe across the top to knock off whatever was there. Arthur lowered Ariadne to the desktop, his mouth anchored to hers. Then he cupped and caressed her breasts, savoring the sounds of her gasps and moans.

Gradually, Arthur moved to kiss her jaw and neck, moving down until he was stooped over to mouth a breast. He stroked the other with one hand as he started stroking the juncture of her thighs. Before long his fingers were slicked and wet with her arousal, her breath came in short pants that mirrored his own, and then she was clenching around his fingers and whimpering. She came quietly, a soft shiver and exhalation of breath. Arthur gently laid her back on the desktop and then placed his mouth at the core of her, licking into her musky nectar, her panting gasps driving some part of him wild. He had denied himself the reality of this for so long, and now he was getting a chance to live this fantasy.

When Ariadne came again, she tugged sharply on his hair to get him to stand up. "C'mon," she gasped. "I want you inside me now."

"I don't have anything… I wasn't exactly expecting this."

"I get the depot shots and I've never had an STD." Ariadne sat up a little awkwardly and attacked the waistband of his pants. "Knowing you, you've never had one, either."

"No," Arthur said, feeling a little gobsmacked. He really shouldn't have; it figured that Ariadne would approach sex just as straightforwardly as she did dream share. "Never. I'm clean. I get tested every six months just to be sure, even though I don't share needles."

"Then we're good," she declared, sounding exceedingly pleased with the situation. She freed his cock and gave it a few strokes. "So stop worrying, and c'mon and fuck me."

He couldn't help but grin lopsidedly at her. "Yes, ma'am," he teased, pushing his trousers and underwear down the rest of the way to his ankles. She answered his grin with one of her own, and it turned into a contented moan as he sank deeply into her. Moving slowly at first, Arthur gradually picked up speed when Ariadne grabbed his ass with her hands and pushed him to move faster. He was only too willing to comply, and he groaned at the feel of her tight and slick around him. One hand was resting on the desk for balance, the other was tangled in her hair as he kissed her.

It was over far too soon for Arthur's liking, and he sagged against Ariadne. She wrapped her arms around him and he could feel her smile on his shoulder. "Mmm… Good start," she said, her voice a throaty purr.

"Good start?" he echoed, a little confused.

"Oh, you didn't think this was going to be a one time deal, did you?"

This time, Arthur's grin was decidedly goofy. "I guess it's not."

The End


End file.
